To Serve *Open to All*

[Sir Kendrew Campbell]

"Ye understand why to be within these walls is almost akin to guarded privelege, and to be on either side of them is a greater one yet. Ye have, like myself leave to places that none will e'er go, things that others will ne'er know. That is why I cautioned you most carefully. Ye walk just as much a schism as she does, ye and Jelenah.."

- Kendrew, To Serve -

Beathag: "Ye could 'ave stayed in the Bant chan Ser, Kendrew, Ah did nay think ye'd come back up sae soon. There be other's 'ere now tha' can do your job as well as yeself.." The voices of two Scott's bounced around the stone as they walked in the hall matched stride for stride, step for step, and almost height for height. But a few inches beneath her Guardian, Beathag had the advantage of being level at the eye for matched gazes. On she spoke in contemplative tone, "Ye can gae back, iffn ye like." --

Kendrew: He locked his hands behind his back so one palm cupped the other's wrist, fingers interchanged places as Kendrew of Dumfrieshire found himself being given leave to return to the pastures of Eden. "No," the decline was obvious as he looked at the Duchess, Lady of all the Isles, "Your handwomen are in Turas Lan, so then where m'charges go tis where I will be." To be in the city again was to dress for the occasion, though the country touched him. A linen and a simple tunic of brown over it took the place of the manicured attire he wore when accompanying his leiges on official business. He was still healing from the battle so it was not uncommon to see a slight hitch in the stride of his step (d)

Liliana: Time spent in the Valley of the Stars had been almost magical. It's beauty had enveloped Liliana and the happiness that had been found there, memories that lingered in the depths of her eyes, would not be forgotten. The ugliness ofthe battle had even been washed away though at times, late in the evening, it'd filter into her dreams briefly. Now though it was nice to be back in Turas Lan and around Beathag. Moving down the hall, humming softly, Liliana was heading to find the Duchess and see if she needed anything. (d)

Beathag: "Should beh countin' m'selves 'mong the lucky women, tae have such man as yeself intent 'pon guardin' m'self, the ladies n' the city at large. Heard o' how things fell n' tha' the men under your command revered ye. Ye arranged the pikes n' then led spearmen there after. Tha' like is worthy ' Commander, n' tis amazin' ye came 'ere only as a man on foot, n' nay a General in ye own right"

Kendrew: "M'right is to honor m'vows o' service, your Grace, how'er tha' needs be. ye've named me Lord Defender.. n' ye put the offer o' o'seein a group before me, we shall see M'Lady, we shall see.." He asked for nothing nor wanted more than what he had. Longing was done with and so was yearning. What did he seek out of the world besides to display a selfless portion of a man? A taste of greatness and peace came to him when the battlefield was littered with body,fire, and falling stars. He smiled as from a distance he saw Liliana "Look, your lady comes now n' will be far better company than a man. You could use less of men." Or so he thought. There could be less of a temper perhaps if one was surrounded by gentleness, or so the supersticion of taking in what you saw held by. --

Beathag: "Who's greater company?" Beathag knew that in but two things he left his heart on his sleeve: The absence of his brother, and the arrival of a woman who had told him to return safe. (d)

Liliana: A pause in step and the appearance of red in copper-skinned cheeks showed that chocolate eyes had spotted the man that kept the Duchess company. Lips curved in a sweet smile and eyes drank him in quietly, for a second, before feet finally continued to move forward. Stopping at the side of Bess and Kendrew a hand would smooth out the wrinkles in the skirt of her peach gown as she'd curtsy a bit. "Your Grace. Sir Kendrew. I apologize if I have interrupted your conversation." (d)

Beathag: She could use less of idiots but the world would no sooner cease in breeding by-gotten fools than it would expand any farther to make room for the likes of her unless she charged forward wi th resolution. The windows of the hall opened to allow in the air of waning summer. How sad, for this year's sun had come early and frequent, giving warmth to weather that knew more chill than balm. If the sun could shine o'er more over Scotland than she could return to the pursuits of living within the illustrious, confusing station, "Nay, Liliana." The pea-soup thick brogue danced like a child as she spoke, "Sir Kendrew was only just tellin' meh how good yer companionship, yers in Jelenah's beh for the likes o' mineself. He be right. I could use less o' men e'en the fine lot such as him. A change in dress." Her hands brushed against the gowns she wore now with some relish. The merchant in her liked a fine cut of cloth, having made shirts, breeches, bodices and vests of the bests lots before. "Does nay always make a change in spirit -- och, how I try -- mayhaps the likes o' ye will remind mineself tae stay a hand in my affairs. Adam takes tae his sae well.." (d)

Liliana: "Indeed it does not, Your Grace. Though a change of dress can feel freeing to ones spirit." Mischief sparkled in chocolate eyes as they flashed to Kendrew thoughtfully and then went back to Bess. It was odd how that one gown and dance had seemed to release part of her. Part of the old her that was not dead as had been feared. "What affairs are you to be about this day?" Hands clasped behind her back, she awaited a response. The goal was to help keepher focused on her affairs for this day. Once they were out of the way then...well, Bess could let her hair down so to speak. (d)

Beathag: "Petitions. Folk'll come up o' all sorts in take audience tae make a petition o' the Lord n' Lady n' then I grant them, some come up seekin' fer meh tae pass judgement on a matter, tha' sort o' thing. A change of dress wot free's m'spirit still baffles half the country." Her oddity was her way, too far to change all that was a signature. Her Grace still kept fit in pursuits of riding, archery, and training with the strongest of the regimes. Conversly, to hear the woman play harp was to wonder how the long, musician's hands ever became blood riddled or battle worn to begin with. "We sit n' the informal hall 'ere, dun like tae use the Great Hall tis tae large n' pretencious. Save tha' fer grander occasions." The trait that the people spoke of liking the most was how they were spoken to on equal terms. Adam nor Beathag sat on risen dias chairs, throwns, or that sort. They did not make one climb up steps or swear to be vassals. (d)

Liliana: Listening closely to the process, she'd give a gentle nod of her head,"Would you like me to be at your side today?" A simple question, but asked nonetheless. The Duchess did not need a sitter nor did she need coddled. Liliana would be in attendance for today's business though. As a friend and companion. It did not feel like a duty any longer which was a sign that she was happy. (d)

Beathag: "Aye, twould like tha' iffn for a little. TIs good for ye tae hear wot the people say. There are many a request wot come through. Some long n' others humerous..I wonder wot they will say today. I have nay heard an audience in some time. twill be good to listen to the people once more." (d)

Liliana: Never had she been in attendance for such a matter. Then again, she had not been in the service of a Duke and Duchess. Now one hand would make a graceful motion in the direction of the hall for Bess to lead on. Hands would be clasped formally at Liliana's waist and she'd move along to follow after. "Humorous? That I do believe. Ones mind can come up with interesting things." (d)

Kendrew: Behind two flowers of the island Kendrew pulled up the rear with a gentle smile to listen to the talk. "Some are humerous, you ought to here when two farmers can't figure out where to mark the end o' a land piece n' who's cattle goes where. Some talk is o' more serious things but you will see." Beathag moved farther ahead of them to take her place so he moved closer up to the vacant side, "Their Graces are good judges o' things.More patient than the Guild talk would have you believe..." That time in the Hall of Guilds was still near enough to reach his ears when he went out on his rounds. He did his best to deter such talk, " They give well to those who need it most n' quell a great many arguments This is Lady Beathag's first petitioners n' many, many weeks." (d)

Liliana: Chocolate eyes stayed on Bess as they walked with ears open to listen to Kendrew's words. Unsure where to stand, she paused near Kendrew though back at least three or so steps. "Of course they are. I would not believe otherwise." The incident of last time was still in Liliana's mind as well and she would never forget it. It happened to be one of the reasons why she stood up front instead of hiding in the back as she had before. "Do the arguments get out of hand?" Brow raising, curiousity showing on her face, she looked from Kendrew to Bess and back. (d)

Kendrew: "Sometimes they are apt to, tis why when the judgements by nobles can nay be reached they'll bring them before the Lord n' Lady for what they say is ultimate.Some cases are severe as ye can imagine such as judgements for the likes o' a wicked crime or some such as servitude in return for some o'd deal o' another land. Some folk fight over old ha'pennies." As Beathag took to home place, Kendrew would cant his head for Liliana to assume a place near the Lady's immediate left or right. He stood to the right of her, perhaps a pace or two behind. At times he would place himself nearer the door, but after a battle one never knew what the foolish or desperate could attempt. Seeing all was well and the room well guarded, he backed off but a little so he might show the petitioners were to go. He smiled to Liliana -

Beathag: In a high backed wooden chair she sat with a round table nearby holding refreshment of drink for herself and those within the room. "Here it is then," she seemed to mutter to herself, smoothing the folds of the tan colored over dress. Today, the sun was allowed to strike free moving hair. What length it had, nearing her hips with nary an ounce of trouble, held back with but a few pieces in combs so as not to spill over her vision. That she needed. To see clearly. (d)

Liliana: Moving to the left, standing a bit back still, Liliana looked out over the room thoughtfully. It did not take long though for her attention to go to Bess. Lips would curve in the offering of a soothing smile. "All will be well." The words were spoken in a mere whisper for the Duchess's ears alone. Head held high, back straight, and hands clasped at her waist, Liliana waited for the proceedings to start. Hopefully things would go more pleasant than it had in the Guild Hall. (d)

Beathag: To be told that things were not to go awry made her smile as she looked over her shoulder, green eyes level with chocolate visage. Keen was the smile with intent to travel to Liliana as a sign of thanks. Should less be expected of girl who obtained her posistion on a stormy night from a stormy, brewding soul? The door would open, and the first petition to be heard of the late afternoon was a young mother who'd come from the South of Scotland. She talked of knowing little to no one within the city, and told that to speak to petition the Duchy was a way to learn. But how was one to do that, was that how it was done? She held one young one to her breast while the brother was told to be quiet and still. "Wot is it like in the South?" There came a tale next of other places rising while the lesser farm communities were trodden underfoot. "If I may, your Grace, where ought one gae? Got two capable hands I dae n' m'husband set us o'er on the boat for himself to folow directly, mam. Bein' what things are n' all he has to close affairs..he was good n' skilled worker mam." Giving consideration to this, she'd say, "Take yourself down to one o' the taverns or the inns n' the city, n' rest there. leave yer name with m'scribe n' I'll write ye a personal advance o' forward tha' m'judgement is for ye tae be settled. Mayhaps the south, in Armadale. The region was hit hard, but it is flourish now with all the work tae be done, n' i heard o' the town holdin much a'parcel o' land and in need o' folk for the guilds down yon.' The woman spoke of being of some talent with reeds and basket weaving, to which to her delight could be done. "Thank ye, m'lady! Och tis like the say indeed ye listen to one n' all. Twas not like tha' where we was from ye know m'husband give o' himself ten n' five years to the lordships army there twas as if nothin." Kendrew pointed the lass to the scribe just on the other end of the room, who took the preceedings notes. "Yer welcome much, Mistress. Wot is a land but fer the hands close..tae it." Slow but heard, the speed the pitch of the Duchess' voice sunk before it rose again. In fact, her tone was an alto, lovely and rich..but seemed strained until she drank the water. -

Liliana: It was during this petition that Liliana had to mentally shake her head. This was the woman that was to be feared? She did not see it. There was naught to fear unless you invoked her anger. To do that though was utterly foolish. Chocolate eyes did not follow the grateful woman who moved toward the scribe, but instead watched Bess with a slight frown. The change in tone was noted with worry as gaze would flash to Kendrew questioningly. Yet her eyes were brought now to two men who were clearly next, quiet bickering words passing between them when they thought none were looking, and she'd raise a brow. Interesting indeed


Kendrew: *All had a voice. Still, some voices were a waste of the breath it took to make a word. "M'lords. Her Grace will here ye just there." Two pairs of eyes told two different stories with one common theme:disagreeance. He furrowed his brow behind their backs until Liliana's look of worry made expression shift to one of thought, than a shake of head as if to say he would tell her later, but there was an answer to her question. "He stole it, I say!" The elder of the two men shook his finger up at the other before bowing sloppily to Beathag, "He stole it! My prized cattle that man stole it!" (d)

Liliana From the corner of her eye she noticed the shake of Kendrew's head, but did not acknowledge it as attention was on the men. Now the other man would bow, calling out,"He gave it to me!" Liliana would look from one to the other, wondering who was telling the truth, as the men passed hateful words toward the other one. Perhaps their argument was not truly over cattle, she mused to herself. (d)

Petitioners: "I did not give it to you, gnave! You stole the prize of the heard!" "It was repayment for what your son did to my daughter!" Ah! That was the crux of the matter. Two kilt wearing men come all the way to Turas Lan for what the Chieftain of the Clan no doubt couldn't decide or rightly ignored "Your Grace, says my daughter's worth is based on the hide o' m'best cattle? What does this say, though he ought not have taken it!"

Beathag: Notice the sky-ward arch of a slender brow as she watched both men row as if none were in the room but them! "Will ye gae on thus sirs or are ya each goin' tae tell me the full tale?" In truth, their bickering served in delivering grace's le-way, as her voice was waning. It would allow it time to rebuild in tone, if not necessary force. So the tale would go: The man in the mostly red tartan's daughter was the betrothed of the man in blue tartan, and both had eloped, to which one couldn't decide who was more responsible. The girl's "charms" or the boy's "lusty insistance". Either way the flower was plucked before it was time, claimed the father, but to make amends they elected to ttrade stock between the houses, a welcome present for one and late dowry for the other. The cattle was or wasn't a part of the bargain..though the true case seemed to be the deflowered woman and the marriage. (d)

Liliana: Such a case to bring before the Duchess! Liliana's face remained expressionless though inwardly she was flabbergasted. How did one decide on such a matter? Head would cant slightly to the side as chocolate eyes moved between one man and the other. It seemed that the man with the daughter felt that his daughter had been wronged if he felt he rightly deserved the cattle. Poor Bess! (d)

Beathag: "Did ye children both have a marriage contract a'tween them, was it arranged?" Both men nodded, though it was at a particular age! The man in red tartan said it was for fifteen,the blue sixteen, "She's wed now sae wot is the ne'er mind? If she is sixteen she is old 'nough tae decide fer herself n' the contract is fufilled, though now let us tae dowry. Wot say tha' the best cattle, is it 'breedin' stock?" Neither man could rightly say, "Each o' give the other the second best prized bull n' this one, this first prize gaes to the pair to bless their home. Ye may take a boar from meh for yer table, some chickens n' bless the marriage all taegether. May it give ye both good grandsons" Well that is something they hadn't considered! Suddenly the quarrel lessened as each man bowed his thanks,his judgement and ownings recorded as they'd take to the tavern for a whiskey! Beathag fell silent with only an arch of eyebrow and a quiet chuckle to denote what her eyes avidly said, "Amazin' wot a good table, talk o' the bed, and a boar can solve." Though it was to be seen that she didn't tlak as she didn't want to, but that for a brief time she couldn't!

Kendrew: Kendrew always wondered why the land owners couldn't just solve such things, but it was petition day. His job was to guard, perhaps to show where. He was privy enough to listen to all matter of low to high, though the next came as quick as it was announced. A man and woman arrived inward, coming to plead a sort of clemency for a prisoner, their son. He did not do that which he was arrested for, and proof had been presented! The mother held her husband, trying to remain composed but was afraid for her son, fearing he would lose his head. The man began to grow irate. Kendrew' shand clamped upon his shoulder, "Ease, m'lord. Ease. Her Grace is thinking." (d)

Liliana: Hiding the smile that wanted to curve her lips was a task. Amusement filled chocolate eyes at the way the matter was settled. Bickering men had become laughing friends at the mention of bedding and babes! Now as the next approached to be heard, their matter quite heartwrenching, Liliana watched the mother quietly. The woman looked like she could shatter at any moment. (d)

Beathag: "Your Grace, I beg you! Please, our son is our oldest and the heir..our family is heartbroken.." The Lord held his wife, impatient at the Duchess sloth in speech, but she spoke all the same. "The matter..tis looked..intae. Ye son came from one o'the other parts o' the territory n' he isn't guilty..nay. He will be..able tae gae free. Your nephew we can nay release...he is guilty." The father had a feeling, yet what would he tell his wife's sister, her boy was capable of murder? He'd tried to overcome a merchant of some notable repute who had come from Turas Lan, and succeeded the second time. For what, for gold? Now his life could pay forfeit to being in prison forever. The wife burst into tears for her sister,though the man bid his thanks. What else could her Grace do, he told her, if the boy was guilty? At least they could take their son home. "Ye can..see..your nephew." When asked what the judgement for the boy would be, she said it would go before the courts and tribunal...as it was begun in the other territory,but it murder was the highest of all offenses.

Kendrew: "Thank..thank you." The woman sobbed softly as she was led away. Their nephews brother had come, and unsatisfied with what was said he flew forward before the Duchess and took a hand, shaking it hard. "What evidence condemns him! I demand retribution, a new look! You stupid fools! " The matter made the room gasp in a shock so profound that it could freeze the heart. What times had happened? Even Beathag pulled back a little, Kendrew's arms clamping over before tossing him to the guard. He wouldn't stay his mouth, so he was dragged away to be dealt with, spewing all sorts of terrible things. "My Lady.." took the offended hand to look it over, and herself. No, he did not trust so nor did any seem a simple touch to the hand. In fact, to notice that indeed save for the close kin, many did not advance to touch her unless she made the first offering of it. She was fine, she nodded to all he asked but he snarled. " Do NOT let the beligerent in! The next that touch her thus, are going to meet the end of a sword. You tell the page to say that!" (d)

Liliana: Relief for one family and sorrow for another. Yet, what could they expect? Their son had committed a crime and had to pay the consequences. Apparently the man did not agree. When he came forward and grabbed Bess's hand, Liliana felt her body tense and instinctively moved forward. It was not until the man was taken care of, the actions that passed between Bess and Kendrew sweet, that Liliana locked worried eyes on Bess's face. The question there was simple: Are you well enough to continue? (d)

Beathag The hand he'd touched locked in place, the fingers in the same posistion even as they came from her lap. With a few clicks of the wrist and snaps, it straightened again but the fingers..of the left hand..did not open as fully as they appeared only to the point before full flexion. "I'm...fine." The space between the words was a fault of the vocal chords, but from what? What fostered silence in a woman who could speak for years? The next petition came inand it was a family member from the Lord of Menzies..a name that stiffened Beathag considerably, but no sign of it bristled her face. The words were short, brief, as it was explained that he'd come to make recompense for the sinsof his clansmen by petitioning his service. Motive would be well looked in to, but he was as contrite as he appeared. He knew none had stepped forward to do it, "Their Graces are gone to Aberdeenshire soon to see the King, and I would have our name nay stricked from a place of honor, thank you."

Kendrew: "Go to the guardsmen in charge near the wall and seek a place," Kendrew instructed, for the man was an archer, and one needed such on these high walls. As he exited he said to the maids, "Close the door," to which they appeared baffled but began to do as he said. Them never moving quick enough for him, he pulled the doors closed when they were half way. "The remainin' are going to talk about such before the depature of their graces to take to the King, I wager." His brow wore a heavy line of disproval. What were people going to plot about now? Sealing the doors he turned to Beathag. The prominence he had was evident as he touched her of his own accord, helping her up. "Go, Your Grace. Go n' take a moment's reprieve. They can wait." Another door saw the Duchess leave through it, seeming a bookshelf but leading to another chamber. When it was sealed he looked at Liliana. "The petitions are goin' to get heavy. Liliana, has Jelenah told you anythin yet, or any of the others o' what has happened so far since our comin?" (d)

Liliana: The closing of the door brought curiousity, but it was the departure of the Duchess that had brows furrowing and a frown marring lovely features. Was the Duchess not well? Turning to Kendrew, she'd murmur softly,"I have heard talk though not from a source I would believe at times. It is hard to decide what is rumor and what is truth. I did not wish to bother anyone with such matters and figured I would be told when it was felt I needed to be." The action of tilting her head to the right caused the braid to fall over her shoulder,"Like now, I assume." (d)

Kendrew "Aye, tell me what ye've heard and let me give it truth quick there after. Nay matter if you think it false or nay, go on and say it." He ushered her over to the window, for the room overlooked the near front, where in the courtyard many were gathered. Finely dressed folk scoffed at the poor sorts expecting first priority, the tartan sashes among them signified clans. Some looked impatient, demanding to be seen right then, mentioning such names as Menzies, a name just said before he clicked the window shut. (d)

Liliana: Chocolate eyes watched outside the window they now stood next to, ears picking up on the words passed between those waiting, and Liliana shook her head,"There was much that I put from my mind. I try not to listen to the gossipsof busybodies generally. Perhaps it would be better, Kendrew, if you told me. It would be much quicker and I wish to know as fast as I can." Liliana was not patient when it came to matters of importance. This felt like one to her. She would give a gentle smile to Kendrew then,"I apologize for my tone. It is just...I worry for her." (d)

Kendrew: "You are right to worry," He took her hands.Placing two hands in his he noticed the stature of a woman compared to a man such as himself. Even Beathag, with all of her might was still delicate in certain ways. "Since the Duke n' Duchess have been in reign, e'en as just the Lord and Lady of the city the entire court has risked much. The Winter Wars, the Civil Wars of the Spring. Their son was almost taken by the Lord of Menzies, and done so, in this room, in this very hall just beyond. Their daughter is dead and I have seen the Duchess, the Duke, and even the Lord Marshall her brother fall down nigh from horses of sheer exhaustion. They've been stabbed, they've nearly died of assination." To live it was a horror, "This is what the months have unfolded since the year was new, Liliana.. Jesu..the Duchess DID die, or was close enough. The poison stilled her breath, it looked to have killed her, it quieted all the body n' paled the skin, she was just about dead afore it war off. The Duke has lost his mind and recovered it. Blood runs and vengence miles longer. " He took her shoulders firm, "Ye ken this? Do ye understand it all." He was serious, intense. He loosened his grip on her and sighed, "Her voice is marred now, twill always be marred. God knows when the Duke may suffer his black humors of mood. There would be people willin' to kill every soul in this castle. Peace or no. Now they go to Aberdeen to the King, n' I tell you...I trust neither of them not." He looked to the people below. "Hardly a one without some plot, some twisted thing. Even to touch her, the Duke is expressly tha' she must offer it first. This is why so few enter their chambers, or e'en the lady's solarium save yourself, Jelenah, perhaps a hand picked few. Have ye noticed that too?" (d)

Liliana: Words that brought shock were taken in and caused body to tense from it. Chocolate eyes stayed focused on Kendrew's face for part of the conversation before going to look contemplatedly at the spot where Bess had departed. Such horrors for the Duchess and Duke to have faced in such a short period of time. It seemed a miracle that either had the ability to think reasonably or to stand strong. Kendrew's hands on her shoulder had eyes locking on his own gazeas she looked back to him. "I do Kendrew. I understand..." That these men came, one whose own relative had attempted to take sweet Aodhan, would cause suspicion to arise. "I have noticed those who are allowed within the chambers and solarium. Though now...I understand better the reason for it." When one could not completely trust those of their own land...they had to be careful. To even think of anyone causing harm to Bess, Adam, or Aodhan made her stomach clench. (d)

Kendrew: "Ye understand why to be within these walls is almost akin to guarded privelege, and to be on either side of them is a greater one yet. Ye have, like myself leave to places that none will e'er go, things that others will ne'er know. That is why I cautioned you most carefully. Ye walk just as much a schism as she does, ye and Jelenah.." He took her hand, pulling her to the corner as if the walls had ears. "When Beathag was .....asleep. When it seemed she'd died...the Lord Adam thought Jelenah' his wife's ghost. He claimed to see her everywhere, telling him things, that is how he knew was not dead. To this day grief makes many a man mad, " He thought his sovereign, though wise, had inherited black humors that made his mind ill if darkness breeched it. Yes, he thought his sovereign half mad." He pulled Jelenah to him, kissing her. I dread to think what would have happened had I not come. They both weep n' wail, they ache deeper for what they have chosen to do. You make ache just as deep one day." His hand lifted to touch her face. He was not a man of words, but if they need be said he knew what to say of imporance. "Liliana.We may witness words n' hear things that may make the stomach turn today. Are ye steeled for that?" (d)

Liliana: "To have thought his beloved was dead must have been heartbreaking. To be haunted by her..." A shake of her head would be given, braid swaying with the movement,"I cannot imagine what that must be like." For the Duke, a man she had found amusing and pleasant that day in the kitchen, to have gone mad...he must have ached terribly. Every word that Kendrew spoke was taken in and tucked away to never be forgotten. For these were ones of importance that had to beremembered always. Closing her eyes, his hand upon her cheek bringing warmth, she listened to his question and let it swirl about in her head. Finally lids would lift and chocolate eyes would lock steadily on his own gaze,"Aye, I am Kendrew. At least, as much as I can be." Liliana would not leave Bess's side this day. (d)

Kendrew: "Angels go where brave men fear to tread, one understands nay such prashses until now " He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his forehead to hers. " Come...let us to our duty." A moment of tenderness stolen before the onslaught. He never trusted what looked like peace or seemed to be quiet. He never assumed, only let his own judgement reign after investigation. Already it seemed there was a railing outside of the dignified shouting, the steward and page, the guardsmen come to still the arguments raging outside. They could see it from the window, hear it shaking the glass. (d)

Liliana: A tender moment ruined by the shouts and chaos going on outside. Liliana wished only to hold onto it longer, to feel safe in Kendrew's arms, but that was not to be. "Duty calls us." Lips would curve in a tender smile as one handwould lift to stroke his cheek. Stepping back then, though loathe to do it, she'd murmur,"Should I get the Duchess?" (d)

Kendrew: "It does." He leaned forward and let his eyes slip shut as the touch for a moment steeled him as much as his words had bid her be the same. Currents of irritatation were prevelent in tense muscles as he nodded "Through the door, there. I'm goin to bring the petitioners forward m'self."

Liliana: "Be careful..." Chocolate eyes moved from him to glance toward the window where chaos came from. Thinking of Kendrew having to handle them had a knot forming in her stomach and worry showing in her eyes. Her back stayed straight though and her smile brave. After those words she moved off in the direction that Bess had went. (d)

Beathag: The White Hound had sat down in a chair in the side room where she took a moment's repose...yet it was an illusion. Smooth features were set in an impassive look as fingers were pressed digit to digit. As the door creaked open, she turned an eye to the little handmaiden. "We're not gaein back to the recievin' room," she said with determination, coming to her feet, "I'm gaein tae have the guard escort meh to the courtyard. One should nay let wild dogs in the house." (d)

Liliana: Pausing just inside the doorway, Liliana let chocolate eyes move with concern over the Duchess. Watching her rise, she'd approach carefully to stand beside her incase she needed any aid. Yet, that concern increased at Bess's words and brows furrowed slightly,"Do you think that is wise, Your Grace? You could be putting yourself into danger..." Such danger could put Bess at risk and Liliana did not like that thought. Especially after all that Kendrew had told her. (d)

Beathag: "One does nay let wild dogs in the house, n' tis safer than closed doors. At least Ah can see wot beh comin' toward the sides, front n' aft o' me." The form stood from the chair it'd occupied to throw a long shadow across the room. The Duchess, Lady of the Isles, fell tadamount to the expression. Like the hound before the hunt her teeth were set hard on the jaw, a low, gutteral growl sounding in the throat as she came to the front of the door. "Mine is nay a hand they wish tae bite anymore.."

Liliana: A nod was the only response given to Bess's words. Liliana was concerned that Bess would not be safe outside, but it was not her place to question the wishes of a Duchess. There was also the fact that Kendrew as well as many others would be out there. None would be foolish enough to even attempt to hurt her with so many around. So she hoped. Liliana would let Bess lead and follow along behind quietly. (d)

Kendrew: He went down the hall, to the great doors that showed the courtyards argument between two or three men. Circling in tight, taut groups like symbiotic chains growing larger on the unseen tension in the air. "No! You're claims are false! The King will prevail what we seek! How long do you think this rabble in the castle made noble will last?" " The Duke fought n' bled,and i bled beside him and his brother in law! This is the King's wish.. " "HA" " Still your tongue..it matters not..ah see there!" Kendrew came from the door as they spoke hard words between themselves. "YOU will NOT set foot inside unless you still your vile tempers! Heed!" With a wave of hand the guards were ready to escort some out and let only the important in. "Hold your places, men, arrange them!" Groups were being sorted out, petitions taken again by the stewards to grade in order of importance. From the corner of his eye he saw the White Hound with hackles raised, offering her a hand to take if she must walk about boars. Tusk that could gore her, or her teeth sink in them. It was all a matter of who'd move first. --

Beathag: "I want tae listen to them all on these steps...dun wish them in mah home thus. Nay with m'son here."

Kendrew: "As you would." (d)

Liliana: A look would pass to Kendrew as they came into the courtyard and she'd take her place near Bess's side. Back straight, ignoring the fear that snaked through her body, she sent a silent prayer up. Hopefully all would be kept under control and Bess kept safe. (d)

Kendrew: "Hold still! The Lady has come to hear you! Ye will stand still, one at a time speak as the steward allows. Any man who comes further than I SAY will pay the price!" Beathag was on his right side, and he stepped down with her on his arm once, twice.

ABeathag: "Wot will ye tell me tae night, with such ire in your voices.."

Petitioner and Kendrew: "You're going with your husband to Aberdeen, what will happen? What will the wars mean for the island, lands have been given to people in your favor, what of the old families? What will become of us by the years end?"

Many questions were issued and Beathag answered each one without flinching. Each one was met with her locked gaze as the rabble began to quiet. His eye split on two women, for Liliana, too, was watched. No man would approach the step for fear of what cost would be for the folly.

"What favors will others be paid for your company, who else will rise from the last battle? "

Their voices fell to muted dins but still the nay-sayers mong some were discontent with the simplest of answers in truth the questions asked were none of their affair and they kept the truthful from seeking among them. The honorable's requests were taken to be heard, some referred to Lord Adam to which they railed even more, asking how some old clan he could be a part of. As the yelling began again, Kendrew stepped before the two women with sword drawn (d)

Liliana: Questions flew from mouths, one after the other, making Liliana's head spin. How did they expect Bess to answer these? They were asked without even a chance for her to answer. Liliana was surprised that they would even ask such. It was no business of theirs that she could see. Body was tense, hands clasped so tightly knuckles shown white, and when the yelling started again she instinctively took a step back. It was Kendrew drawing his sword that made chocolate eyes widened as they looked from him to Bess with worry. (d)


Beathag The yelling began from man to man, the guards encompassed the tempers to keep them at bay. Beathag instinctly drew backwards, taking Liliana with her even a step more. "Turn them away." she barked, " I am done this day..." The sounds at that as it welled upward! The cries! Soon steel clanged to steel as one angry man claimed he was worth hearing as another disagreed, at times some forgot why they would fight. The courtyard would be filled with perhaps ten men, steel to steel, angry eyes to angry eyes as some tried to stop it, others exasberated the circumstance. "This is why," she breathed ," Ye ne'er let wild dogs in your home.."

Kendrew: This was why it was privelege and of great thought to be at the side of greatness in the making, still fledgling and new. His sword crossed as he drove it to the ground , "Ye do not wish to do this! Go, turn them out!" Some began to turn away under the threat of arrest while others would cross swords more yet. One man he would knock clear across the face for approaching him with swor drawn ,"Anyone else!" He bellowed, nevnever one to turn down a fight if it was offered. Hell! Give it to him and he would excell. Blood and ink did stain men's hands and maps with all matter of bias, and Kendrew did cross swords with a man who' sname meant little to him. The excersise was staggering as he was steal healing, but his blade proved better as he knicked the man's face, "Take him away," he mumbled, turning on his heel. Just as the man was heading for his back, the wild horse he ridden in on was upset by the commotion. Breaking away from handlers, his owner stumbled back. "Stop tha'....GOD." He went instantly up the steps and turned the women away from what would be inevitable, pressing Liliana against him and prevent Bess from going forward as it happened: Unable to get up in time..a price was paid. The horse's hooves came down on the man's head once, twice, splitting the skull and snapping the neck, the shoulders (d)

Liliana: The sounds of fighting rang in her ears and made her wrap her arms around herself. Liliana fought the urge to flee as the sounds of swords clanging against each other sounded. Moving closer to Bess, she looked out over the crowd with wide eyes. Yet, it was Kendrew fighting that had her gaze swinging to him with alarm until it seemed that he had won. The sound of the horse had Liliana's eyes widening even more, mind speeding along to what would happen, but blessedly she did not have to see it thanks to Kendrew's quick actions. It did not stop her stomach from churning though, whispered words passing lips,"Oh God..." (d)

Kendrew: "Don't look up," he whispered letting it known that he offered the woman a tender hand before others. A hand pressed her head firm to his chest as the arm wrapped around her. " CLOSE THE GATES!"

Beathag: "Now it seems whether tae gae or leave..is a damnable thing," so the trip would be peppered with the crushed head, the blood and bones of a man who's ire got the better of him. The horse was pulled away at last, soothed..and naught could be done for the dead Beathag would pass the pair, lost in her own thoughts. -

Kendrew: " Go, find the Duke n' guard his preceedings tonight doubly. You prevent this elsewhere " The guard heeded..soon, the din, the quiet after was so sickening he thought he could still hear the violent crushing of the fragile skull, the squish of the brains. Leading Liliana with him to a quiet alcove he held her tight. "Yer tremblin' like a leaf..." he mumbled. " Shh now..shh.." (d)

Liliana: Pressing closer to Kendrew, her own arms snaking to hold tight about his waist, Liliana did not see the Duchess leave. Nor did she hear the sounds around them or see what went on. Liliana's mind had drifted for a moment to horrible memories. Brought on by the fear and chaos of today. She fought hard though to push them away and it was finally the sound of Kendrew's gentle words that helped to make them vanish. Misted chocolate eyes lifted to his face, soft words spoken,"I'm a coward..." Her actions had proven that she was not brave and strong. She tried to be though. (d)

Kendrew: "Nay....ye are but a woman, as I am but a man. Tha' was a horrid sight. You faced the crowd, though with much grace about ye.." He soothed her worry as he looked over toward the now tightly shut doors. Beathag was to her own, for such sights were not alien to her, nor did they mar her. As much as it sickened him to know even that...it was as it was. "You're alright now.." A maid passed , about to ask if all was well when he waved her away. Not for allthe world would he let her go. In a distant room would sit the Duchess, staring to space, letting her trauma for the fire to see. Gently he rocked her, leaned in to place his lips against hers. So rare a moment in a time of duty come again. Sealed off in her chambers, he knew Beathag would not open the door for a time. "Here.." One word uttered, he led her gently down the hall to a small room where one of the stained glass windows was in the form of the old boar hunt's standard of the former lord. A chapel at one time, now the pews were gone, replaced by simple fur throws and chairs for sitting. To the window they'd go instead, where he eased her to sit to gather herself (d)

Liliana: At the moment nothing could pull Liliana from Kendrew. She used his strength and comfort to make all right again with her own body. Gentle touch of lips was felt and she'd return it, the action soothing and sweet. It filled her with a much needed warmth after such a horrible shock. Hand in his, Liliana moved with him down the hall. Chocolate eyes briefly passed toward where Bess would likely be and back to Kendrew,"Will she be alright?" Guilt flowed through her for not thinking of Bess in such a moment. Stepping inside the room, taking it in quietly, she'd sit down slowly. "Who was he?" It seemed such an odd question, but she needed to know. A name to put with the face of a stranger who she had seen die. (d)

Kendrew: "Do ye need anything, somethin' to drink to ease you.." He did not want anything to pull Liliana from him, nor would he leave her. The place from where they just came gave birth to a great lot of talk, the sound seeming to make the stones shift to seal it out. War was simpler than this! "Ye'll learn her face." Baritone shook out the talk of maids, the trembling of feminine voices as he smoothed her hair."Ye'll learn the faces o' your Duchess n' Duke when we are closer, when we they need us closer. When at times they will have us none at all. Like this, mayhaps the only one she'll talk to is Adam, her brother, wife. The old advisor.If she is worse off it gaes down e'en more. As for the man who was he? I dun know." To be nameless, to die..nameless in a courtyard. He did not even know who's face he'd cut nor did he care. His duty was abseloute. "Many a man goes 'up gainst another and we'll ne'er know a name." (d)

Liliana: "How does one forget that?" There was naught Liliana wanted at the moment except his presence. With Kendrew near she felt the trembling begin to cease. Nausea still churned in her stomach, but it was slowly fading. The words about Bess and Adam were taken in, a nod given, as she reached out a hand to clasp one of his. "I was hoping a name would make it easier to...deal with. I doubt it would have though. I have never seen one die so..." There was no words to describe such a horrid death. Giving a faint smile to Kendrew, she'd squeeze the hand she clasped gently,"I will be fine though." (d)

Kendrew: "I don't want you to just be fine -- " He muttered, sighing. Clasped hand in hand he brought hers up to his mouth, rimming the edges of it with the seal of his kiss. "But one can take a good start, aye." Weak smile as she mentioned a name making death easy, "Nay m'sweet a name never will quell that edge, it only puts a name to a corpse." One smiled at something so horrid, was blunt on something so final. He had many years to talk with the Grim Reaper. "Twillnay be the last m'thinks, such as it is. But for now he is the last and matters little compared to now." (d)

Liliana: "To die nameless..." Such softly whispered words and it seemed that chocolate eyes did not look at him now. It looked past him. That would have been her fate had not she been found. Shivering as a chill snaked up her spine, she pushed the thoughts away. "I think I need to rest..." She did not wish to leave the presence of Kendrew, but that was the only way to recover. And to ask him to rest with her...well the idea had a blush appearing! Placing a kiss to his hand as he had done hers, she'd murmur,"Thank you. I think I would have crumbled without you." (d)

Kendrew: "I'd be remiss to let ye faulter when you'e taken so many forward steps already," He smiled warmly to her, reassuring. Whatever horrors haunted her mind flickered like tempting secrets to discover in her gaze, and he wished to know so that he might face her demons as he did Beathag's, as best that a man might, anyhow. "Rest you well Lily o' the Valley...rest you well." (d)

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

The blood of the man's head spread out to fill the space between the stone. Grey matter attracted crows almost at once, so much so that the guards who cleaned up the body would have to wave them away. "Back away, there. Get wagon here, cloths. Get word to the family."

As the doors were sealed against the terrible scene, Beathag realized that her heart must have begun to go cold. The initial shock of the incidient slipped away - instinct took over - and a harsh sense of being took over as she found herself believing that if he had only listened to Kendrew, he would not be a crushed head under the foot of his horse. He paid a price for his indifference, and the tax man came to collect.

All paid a price for something.

To serve, under the Griffin, was beyond the honor, the pomp, and recognition that came with worldly deeds. It had little to do with self and more to do with being self-less. Being a stand out among men and women, she found that she had lost the cornerstone of her instinct. Putting away what had been years worth of life for nobility meant that she was at permanent odds with expectation against the realization of fufilling them. Who was it that she served, she asked herself as she went down the halls to a place of privacy. Sealing the doors behind her, no one would follow. No one would be permitted entry until she was good and ready. It was a terrible habit that should be struck down but it seemed she clung with violent possesion to the pieces of herself she did not want to see slip away.

"Gods," she whispered to no one entity above another, "give me strength n' steel m'thoughts against the blackness tha' lurks again. Whom do I serve? M'husand, m'countrymen? Who are m'countrymen if now it is tha' few Scotts are of honor anymore - who is my king?"

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

Private thoughts to the air weren't supposed to be answered, so to find the Templar Knight in a place none were supposed to be demanded a few explainations. He speech on countrymen and the Christian God was loathed to sail through ears that didn't care, save Beathag was one for such details as this. Pushing away from the door, the Duchess then became the baracade between him and his swift exit.

"Ye should gae n' seek the Templar Hall to see who commands there in, m'thinks they may nay beh as receptive to a new face callin' himself in Command. But let us begin simpler- they've given gold, should they wish tae give more - why 'ave they nay set audience with his Lordship, a personal liason twixt Templar n' Duchy." She scrutinized him and then it became obvious that he may have entered the room but his exit depended entirely on her. No guards would this one need if she reached out to break him like kindling.

Narrow eyes locked on Sir Chevallier. To serve was his ambition, what did he come to serve in what particular cause?

"Scotland is o' pale concern n' Christ has nay barin' on meh sae let us begin with where ye come from and why ye feel it prudent tae intrude in me personal chamber."

[chantalrose]

Rules. Restraints. Society had many of both. To live once again by the strict rules and restraints that society demanded was smothering. Overwhelming even. Freedom to do as one pleases was something to cherish.

Chantal yearned for that freedom once again. To not care if society deemed it unproper to walk unescorted along the streets of Turas Lan. It was not as though she was a woman of high class. Danger came to them more than most as the cut of their gowns or the glint of their jewels tended to tempt thieves. Even if she did tempt- they would be met with the dagger kept strapped to her thigh.

Garbed in a simple pale rose silk gown with capped sleeves and a square neckline, tied under the bust with a simple white ribbon and left to fall straight to the feet, Chantal looked cool yet lovely. The way the material fell from the tied ribbon to her feet hid the small bump that drew most eyes and made tongues wag. White gloved hands lifted to doublecheck that golden curls were still piled perfectly atop her head in ringlets. Though not of money, she was not destitute and wanted to look her best when seeking an audience with the Duchess of Skye.

It was proper to do so, in her mind, when starting a business to meet those who held power in the land. Though she had not been around for long her brothers and sisters had filled her in on the happenings, recent and old. Now she wanted this woman to know that she would indeed support her and that her, and her family, were always welcome at the inn.

Approaching the Guards, sapphire eyes moving between them, she'd curtsy politely,"Chantal May Rose seeking an audience with the Duchess."

Rising slowly, the move graceful, she'd fold her hands at her waist. Back straight, head high, Chantal waited patiently.

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

Beathag was somewhere between enraged and oddly amused as the Knight's flattery rolled off his tongue along with talk of coffers and checking. Young, to flaunt such authority that the woman who was now his sovereign didn't know if he deserved. This was not the hot sands of the desert where campaigns over faith and fidelity were spelled out under the muttered prayers of Christians and Muslims, nor was it the land where many years after the final Crusade men lingered to attempt to wage new wars for their own benefit. He talked of golden hair, Scotland standing up, and wanting to see for himself..

Her.

She crossed her arms beneath her breast, listening as forearms grazed the fabric over her stomach. Beyond them, the page was knocking and the guard was announcing an audience, but still the heavy oak doors didn't budge. In time they would. Placing her hand against the door with a pair of taps was signal for them to wait. "Pardon, my lady. Her Grace will be with us soon." The page said, scratching the back of his head. What was going on inside that he could not see or announce. hmmhp!

"Ye came all this way n' risked not only the guards hands but m'own wrath tae talk about the hair on me head and how ye've heard tale of a woman tha' made Scotland stand? I dun believe ye.." But by now it should be believed. Some had already come from as far as Germany just to see the Griffin Banner and see for themselves Lord Adam's seemingly famous wife. He, in his own rigt, with deeds and ideals enjoyed success while she sought to blend away, but those with pages of history writ many times over never truly fade. "How did it reach all the way o'er there, n' speak quickly, Sir Chevallier, There be an audience beyond this door n' ye might as well stay after tis done sae ye can have your own n' proplery."

[chantalrose]

Standing inside now, sapphire blue eyes moved about the corridor curiously. Taking in each detail of the walls and floor. It was natural for Chantal to take a mental inventory of everything she saw. It was a habit learned at the knee of Astennu. When you think yourself a prisoner, if only for a bit, you tend to take in details to plot an escape. This was something she had done for more than a week. It had only stopped when Astennu patiently explained, in French surprisingly, that there would not be any escape.

What had followed those words had been a struggle and cries of denial that- It was the page's voice that pulled her from thoughts of the past. Outwardly the ivory face with its stunning blue eyes was patiently composed. It showed not a single sign of inattention or having been lost in thought.

"Merci," Nodding her head slightly, she'd look in the direction of the door.

Quietly her mind went to thoughts of the Duchess. Never had she met the woman, but the stories she had heard had painted a picture of courage and wisdom in a beautiful package. Was the image painted as perfect in reality? Or was it flawed? Not that flaws were found unfavorable in her mind. An unflawed person had more chance of falling when something ruined their perfection than one who already had them...

[balian]

It was a quiet lean taken by the Pale cloaked rider against the cold stone wall of the hall and a dead stare down its birth to pass the guards at the Duchesses door and the Lady that waited her appointment with the sovereign. Silently picking the dirt from under his nails with the tip of a knifes edge drawn from its thigh sheath.
Uneasy were these times found in post war and a settling of newly appointed Commands. Balian was an attenative soldier who had spilt his own share of muslim and Christian blood across most the known world. The Crusades made the newly appointed Lord Marshall of the Calvary at Turas Lan that man that he was and the man that he hoped his sons would never have to be. Life had its many acts and lessons, life chapters of a tasteful adventure novel that left ones heart in the dire straights.and twilight haunted by the quickened at his hand. He never spoke of such things though the look of the old soul in the mans icy blues said enough.
A lifetime had long since been left in his wake and a new oath was given to the Duke and Duchess that now stood behind the very door he stood just a few feet from to serve until the very last breath was claimed from his lungs.
One could wonder just what brought the Knight here in the castle halls just now though it was no secret that the Lady Windsor worked this very castle in service of her Grace though it could be argued that Balian's jested over intuition of trouble had brought his attention down for his own look on things. He found himself often guided by odd feelings and instincts that had never steered him wrong just now and caused his survival amongst even the most grim of encounters. He bowed his head politely to the Lady awaiting her audience and lowered his blues back to his fingernails met by the knifes edge to continue his grooming in silence.

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

On one end of the door was a noble woman with an erect head, a Knight engaged in his grooming habits while on the other end of the heavy door a Templar Knight was being given impromptu audience with the Lady of the Isles. Beathag took up residence in a chair by the door as she waited for him to speak. Calm exterior showed a face gone smooth of strain's expression. Cool eyes of green seemed to show paler in the light, fire dimmed; she wanted to see if he would stoke the ire or draw in her close to listen.

Outside they were waiting for a chance to speak with her, sensing danger at an off-beat occurrence, while inside she began to speak again, "Ye come from the East then, what o' your birthplace before, Sir Knight."

[balian]

His attention never wilt, even while he kept his blues to his nail grooming works he had a heightened sense of things that could make a lion envious. Perhaps it was that his ancestors had thought on similarities in comparison to the blue blood that pumped through his heart even now, perhaps it was the very reason the crest of Windsor was chosen to be the dueling lions to show the two paths of both his nobility unspoken and his curse for ever finding a Windsor amongst some of the worlds most challenging of conflicts in mortal war.

Every soldier had their tale, some more densely conserved then the next and many more matched that of the next man, too few of men could be found who weren't baptized into the world of the real through battle and blood and these days it was likely unfound to have a man who hadn't claimed a life of another. Much more could be spoken or argued of the fates of the women that help keep the lines of Kings in row. Uncivilized folk living in a civilized world pretending to be the later spoken.

Some had a keen sight to see through such deception most of which lacked the courage of their own convictions or instincts to act and even fewer were forgotten by all but the blood stained grass of foreign battlefields. But every now and then the Gods showed favor to the righteous and would grant the people a true leader. Balian believed his long quest to search for this leader with a life that seemed endless of pains and heartaches of blood, sweat and tears had finally come to its conclusion in finding Skye. Perhaps it was the fates rather then the Gods whom the Pagan Crusader in the Pale cloak believed played there latest in bringing the dueling Lions to serve and protect the people and the mighty Griffin.

He licked his lips to part them, exhaling the softest of un audible breaths at the thought, knowing. Months before he was lost, leaving himself, his oaths and his heart to die at sea and his ship to drift into the unforgiving and merciless of the deep blue. But he didn't, despite his own personal protest the winds carried him west and passing any chart or map the man had seen into a fog that brought him to find the Lady Aislin who would guide him to Skye as if she herself were puppeted by the fates to be the Knights resurrection.

Even still in the wake of war Balian felt that uneasy churn in his heart, he saw the signs in the skyline. Blood on the moon and the wind changing to cast un fallen leaves to turn on their branches. A murder of crows gathering on an empty field waiting in prediction of a battle not yet declared or waged. Could it simply be a coincidence? Surely it could but for veterans of that very same real. The obvious could not be ignored. Someone, somewhere was up to their bidding and planning to bring the tale to its climax and shake the foundation and future of so many lives. He could see it, even as unclear as to whom the enemy was or which shadow they lurked he could sense its presence growing. The Knife was spun back in his palm and driven blindly back into its thigh sheath with blind perfect precision before his arms were brought back to his broad chest to cross over the white tabard that hung to just above his knees, keeping to his disciplined silence until he was called on.

[chantalrose]

Patience is a virtue. At least that was what Chantal recalled Auntie Aileen always telling her. Whenever she would get impatient, especially with one of her siblings, her Aunt would pull her to the side and give her a gentle lecture on the virtues of a good lady.

There were others, like Do No Harm To Others, that Chantal had broken. Had it not been her who had drawn a blade across the tender flesh of a man's throat to spill his blood? Indeed. Yet, she had not seen that as sinful for the man had betrayed her as had her husband. Sadly she had not been able to kill her husband, but...someday that man would pay for all he had done.

Sapphire eyes were drawn to the approach of a man, a Knight it seemed, and the knife he held in hand. Quiet appraisal was conducted as eyes moved from the knife being used to clean nails to the eyes in his face. His was a handsome face indeed. She did not know the identity of this man though he did not seem intent to cause harm.

Sensing that she was not in danger, Chantal would nod slightly and graciously in his direction then glance back toward the door. One hand would lift to push a gold curl away from her face that had broken free of the pins that held it in a pile atop her head and she'd wonder just what was taking so long.

Patience, Chantal. The woman is a Duchess and may take as long as she pleases...

That thought dampened the rising impatience and her mind drifted briefly to her children. She wondered how they faired at the inn in Turas Lan where they waited with Elspeth.

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

On one side of the door the gathering of people was growing anxious, if not impatient. While on the other side..

Beathag: "A language is a language, Sir Chevallier. Ye speak French but it does nay make ye o' France persay, iffn ye were native tae the country ye tone would have a region's particular flavor. Tis wot ye learn after ye've done some years o' work as merchant 'pon a ship. Ye learn tae hear better than most. But a man o' the Middle East, a Crusader, means some experiencin' in battle tha' is frought with tale and good experience for ye Knight Order. Jacuques must 'ave been impressed or he would nay have sent ye tae dae wot he often does himself. " One leg crossed over the other to afford a view of the well oiled, shine leather boots that existed under her dress. Ankle length, mid calf, or knee high it mattered little. Her stride was as familiar as the sound of a click-click gait due to the hard heel. She was distinct, but then he knew that, given the tale that had traveled some distance to his ears. "The Knights Templar saved m'husbands life nay sae long ago, I owe them m'thanks, n' ye come to bring a strengthened vow o' fealty. N' why, might I ask again, did ye nay come with it through m'front door?" (d)

Phillipe: " Those mocha colored orbs watched Bess every movement in a part sensual but part careful way. He had learned at a early age that an attractive women was more dangerours then ten knights. Allowing his orbs to meet her eyes he allowed that thick French accent to flow off his tongue " You are the dutches are you not?"

Beathag: "Tha' I beh. N' bled for it, twas nay given fer bein' wed tae one, rest assured." An attractive woman was as dangerous as any given number as armed men, especially when said woman was always armed. Old habits died hard. As the saying goes, one can't teach an old White Hound new tricks. Smoothing her tongue over her lips, the dryness was soothed as she regarded the intention in his gaze. Was she boring a hole into his head with her eyes? Perhaps. "N' tell me tha' answer in utter candor. Dun like flower poetry or round'abouts with m'reasons." People shuffled at the door outside. Their impatience was beginning to bare down on the hinges but she showed no sign of moving until the audience was deemed complete. (d)

Phillipe: A thin eye brow arched as he listens to the same question once more. Slender hand ran through thick chocolate locks of shoulder length hair. Taking a few steps towards her he stopped just short of her chair. " You act as if I am a merle criminal. Someone who has trick my way into your private quarters in order to rob you of money. " He moved his hands to his neck and unclasped the necklace he was wearing. The silver necklace held a sliver and diamond wedding ring . Taking the last few bold steps towards her he placed the necklace in Bees hands " My first wife I married her for title and wealth. She died of sickness. But my second wife I married for love. She talked about a woman fed her when she was hungry and clothed her when she was nude. A woman with golden hair . A woman of the Isle. I come here out of respect for her to pay thanks to you. her friend "

Beathag: The same question bore repeating when it demanded two answers: profession given with litany of vows recited, fealty. The personal was only half professed somewhere between talks of her story and the eastern sand he was born against."I act as one who wants tae know each way o' a man who hides in ramparts n' nay crosses o' the threshold. Sae. I act as one who' has had her peace disturbed to here a tale sae might as well expect one." On his advance, instinct became alive - for anything - her eyes two feral green orbs taking in the essence of each action he performed to catalogue it in the mind. He spoke of two wives, and a second whom had received service by her hand. "There's many wot 'ave received such from m'self," she muttered, studying the trinket as it was deposited in her hand, "Sae then, tis a debt for a debt. Ah'll be frank in sayin Sir Chevallier tha' ye wife's name comes nay tae m'mind. Nor dae I find this a concocted tale...yet....though if the stories ye've heard o' me stick, ye know tis nay prudent tae lie tae meh, either." Diamond caught the gloss from her hair to have sheen of its own. She passed the precious itemback to him. "Tis for your hands, n' yer memory nay mind. Keep tha. Ye thanks is paid n' a welcme given in exchange. Many were nude n' poor in the Highlands, barefoot just as many were well off n' moderately content. Despite bein' the childe o' Old Ways tha' I am, neighbors are gracious tae neighbors n' strangers in need. The Christ Child's ways o' goodness are nothin' new under the sun. If she benefited from tha' then twas well done deed." (d)

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

"There are others tae petition, others too, tha' ye need to meet. Ah can nay keep the door closed any longer. But, Sir, iffn ye'd fufill ye vow tae your beloved n' to this cause, Ah accept. Though I warn ye twill be nothin' like you are used to..."

She rose from the high backed chair, looking to him the entire time she walked to unlock the door. Behind it would be Balian, a woman she had not yet known, and a Kendrew in the distance looking more than displeased that so many had gathered with no response from herself.

"Forgive meh, was in another audience. M'Lady, Sirs, enter if ye please."

[chantalrose]

It was the opening of the door and the sound of a voice with a thick accent that had Chantal's head lifting. Before then she had been staring at the floor, lost in thoughts of her business and children. Now though her attention was on the woman who greeted them both- first with an apology and then with a welcome. Though there was not a need for the first as this lady was the Duchess and reserved the right to make people wait.

"Salutation, votre Grâce," A gentle voiced greeting as she dipped into a graceful curtsy. Realizing that the woman might not speak French, Chantal immediately switched to the common tongue,"I apologize for my unscheduled visit, m'lady."

Standing fully, head held high, Chantal stepped inside the room slowly. Sapphire eyes drifted to the man, the one with the knife, she waited to see if he would come inside as well.

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

The accent was always in juxtaposistion to the woman whom, with mouth closed, seemed to have been a part of these surroundings for many years. At once ageless and filled with years, green eyes gauged the new arrival who apologized for the lack of announcement, "Tha' is no ne'ermind," came the elegant pitch of the thick tone, soft now in greeting. Almost at an alto refrain. "Come in, have a seat m'lady. What matter dae ye bring to me today?" Chantal was right. Beathag spoke no French. She attempted no other languages other than what she knew, knowing she'd be the butcher of tone and pitch, but accents were another matter. The ear rolled in them and perhaps even assumed the region that might have given her French a flavoring.

She had practice in it, given that she was the second person of French heritage to come to her in this meeting. Balian and Kendrew were not far behind her Chantal, while behild of herself the Templar Knight had gone still. Eyes perused one another, searching for reasons, explainations, waiting for advances. She stepped aside to allow them within. "Sirs," she spoke to the knights ont he lady's heel, "Come in." To say remain outward would have not gone over well. She knew the look of expectancy in a man's eyes. Both men seemed anxious to assume a post so they could know for themselves that everything was alright.

[Sir Kendrew Campbell]

He hadn't gone far. In fact, he had gone only to find out a piece of information to hold on his person like the expression of constant focus in the halls of his Lord and Lady. The silence spoke in disapproval and foreboding. His anxiousness was testament in a flicker of eyes as he moved forward when allowed, slick and unwavering. He bowed when presented entry, bowed when post was assumed. Kendrew was not one to suffer doors sealed against him over-long when he knew each sway of the mood that had shut them to begin with. No, he was not one to condone the shut remains when his hand, too, had went against the wood.

Gone unasked, he would look at Philippe with an almost incredulous expression fostered in a very simple line of thought. He had not gone through the front door. Oh, they would play that he had for the sake of appereances, though later he would mean to ask the man on the inside of the room how he got there to begin with.

[chantalrose]

Moving further inside, watching the gentleman that followed and glancing to the man already inside, Chantal wondered what she had interrupted. Hopefully it was nothing of great importance. Sapphire gaze moved about the room, taking it in quietly, before she glanced back in the direction of the Duchess.

Now that she was here...Chantal felt a bit out of her element. At one time such an environment would not have made her feel awkward. Ease had been found so easily when she'd been married. Yet, living amongst the "heathens" as some would call them- her skills had faded with disuse. For her former husband she had, at one time, done much discussion with those of gentility and even nobility for his business.

Concentrating a bit, pulling from her old experiences, she'd state quietly,"Your Grace, I am Chantal May Rose. I own Hearth and Home Inn. I have come to let it be known that you, the Duke, and your family are always welcome."

Well, that was a start. Hoping it hadn't come off badly she would fall quiet.